


Don't Want You Out Of My Head

by kryptamazon (thefutureisequalaf)



Series: Femslash Kink Meme fills [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consensual Mind Control, Dom Hermione Granger, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefutureisequalaf/pseuds/kryptamazon
Summary: Take my coat, then lock the door. Don’t speak.For the prompt "Hermione/Ginny, long-term mind control". With lots of consent, because I'm writing it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ginny Weasley
Series: Femslash Kink Meme fills [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1223201
Comments: 26
Kudos: 96
Collections: The Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2019





	Don't Want You Out Of My Head

As the couple entered their apartment, Hermione directed her thoughts at Ginny: _Take my coat, then lock the door. Don’t speak._ Her girlfriend responded instantly, helping Hermione out of her winter parka, hanging it on the rack, and slipping the deadbolt before facing the older witch with her hands clasped at her back. _And yours, sweetheart_ , Hermione thought. She leaned against the apartment door and folded her arms while she watched Ginny obey. _Such a good girl_ , she purred into Ginny’s mind, and the girl shivered and missed the rack with her coat’s hood. _Aww, sweetie, allow me._ Hermione focused her will on Ginny’s hands and directed their movements to hang the coat. Her ears caught her girlfriend’s soft gasp at the seizure of control, and it made her want to seize even more—but this wasn’t the time. It was just after sunset on the evening of the new moon, which meant Ginny was a free woman for the next twenty-four hours. Still, Hermione could relish the superior of her curl of her lips as she issued one last command: _Alright, Ginny, come up for air._

Ginny’s eyes unfocused, then refocused. She looked at Hermione, then around at their apartment, and finally held up her fingers and watched them wiggle. “I—“ Abruptly she looked up. “First, _wow_ , was that ever hot. Second, I actually don’t feel any different coming out this time.”

Then either Ginny was becoming accustomed to her girlfriend’s control—highly desirable—or she was still under its influence—highly alarming. They’d created a way to check, however. “Can you say your test phrase?” Hermione asked.

Ginny pursed her lips, then enunciated “Beluga macaroons,” and grinned. When her mind was subject to Hermione’s control, it was impossible for her to speak those two words in that order. “All good.”

Hermione smiled back. “So you’ve grown fully comfortable with my influence?”

“Perfectly.” Ginny stepped forwards and pulled Hermione close. “I’m already starting to miss having you in my head.”

“Yeah?” Hermione slipped her arms around Ginny’s waist as her girlfriend’s settled on either side of her neck. “What do you like about it?” They’d discussed it many times, but Hermione always wanted to hear if something had changed between check-ins.

“Knowing that you can do whatever you want,” Ginny murmured, eyes dark.

How could she look into those eyes and not tease a little? “Poor thing, you’ll have to occupy yourself some other way now.”

“At least we’re not pausing every week anymore.” Ginny took Hermione’s lower lip in her teeth and dragged. “Maybe next year we can get down to just solstices and equinoxes.”

“Let’s not rush,” Hermione said, sounding a note of caution.

Ginny took sudden hold of her girlfriend’s chin, her grip so firm it startled Hermione, and gave her those dark eyes again. “Why would I ever _not_ want the love of my life in my head?”

The older witch could’ve rattled off a list reasons why not, but Ginny didn’t need that lecture again. No, what Ginny needed was to be spun around, shoved against the wall, and kissed until she couldn’t breathe.

Hermione was always glad to meet her girlfriend’s needs.

And tomorrow evening, after the sun set again, she’d meet Ginny’s need to be out of control to the love of another. She’d meet her need to by captivated and brought to the raw, ragged limits of pleasure—to be wanted, to be taken, to be compelled to please and be pleased. Hermione was pretty sure she could force her girlfriend to come just by manipulating her mind, and she was determined to test her hypothesis. In truth, she ached to skip these day-long respites as much as Ginny did.

But she was the one in control, and that started with self-control. She was responsible for anything which her ever-present mind control might do to her beloved’s psyche. They were playing in uncharted territory, experimenting in the taboo space between commonplace charms and the unforgivable Imperius Curse. There’d been no books in Hogwarts to guide the aspiring domestic mind-controller, not even in the restricted section, and Hermione wasn’t about to ask anyone for guidance. Not when Ginny’s privacy was at stake, too. She was determined to take it slow.

By Sunday afternoon, however, she was itching to reach into her girlfriend’s brain and use it like the sex organ it was. The looks Ginny gave her as the shadows lengthened left no doubt that she wanted it just as badly. Finally, with an hour to go until sunset, Hermione closed her book on her finger and regarded her girlfriend. “Ginny.”

The younger witch looked her square in the eyes. “Well?”

Hermione grinned to herself. “Hear me out. As a matter of principle, I will never ask permission to take back control early so I can play with you. I’ll also always be skeptical of requests from you to end a rest day early. Granting all that”—and Hermione couldn’t help a smirk at the way Ginny perked up—“if I know that you’ve spent your freedom exercising your mind, as you have today, and haven’t spent it all on daydreaming about me taking control again, then I’m open to anything you might want to ask for.”

Ginny sat up on the couch and put her feet flat on the floor “Take me n—”

Hermione snapped her fingers. _“Mine.”_ Her girlfriend went slack, eyes closed and shoulders slumped, losing all of her intensity in an instant. Hermione grinned and tossed her book aside. “Crawl over here, hungry tiger, and kneel for your mistress.”

As Ginny slunk down from the couch and crossed the floor on all fours, Hermione’s imagination was already making plans. She’d make Ginny eat her out, of course, but that laser-focused energy of the girl’s last un-enslaved moments had been delicious, too. Hermione savored the thought of compelling Ginny to come onto her: setting the defenseless girl on fire from the inside out, making her grab and kiss and shove and bite, binding her mind with a need that could only be satisfied by pinning her mistress down and riding her face until she collapsed from exhaustion. And when Ginny had recovered from that, Hermione would test her theory of telepathic forced orgasms—test it to many, many decimal places.

She folded back her skirt, reached out a leg, and pressed on her kneeling girlfriend’s back until the sweet girl’s nose squished against her knickers. _Here’s what you wanted. Now lick, pet._ Ginny obeyed, and Hermione took devious pleasure in controlling her movements, making sport of leading her girlfriend by the tip of her tongue. Her arousal soon demanded more, and she made Ginny pull down her skirt and knickers while she stripped out of her jumper and shirt.

Ginny’s first full lick on her clit ripped a low growl from Hermione’s lungs. Her hips bucked into her girlfriend’s face, and Ginny moved with them. Hermione grinned to herself; _Oh, no, sweetheart, that won’t do._ She compelled Ginny to keep her head in place, crossed her legs across the girl’s back, and ground on Ginny’s mouth until her toes curled and her nerves sang.

What a wonderful life it was, being a witch—and the new month was just getting started.


End file.
